Christmas Shoes for James
by FoxyG
Summary: Sequel. Please read first fic. James is too busy thinking about money and bargains to consider the true meaning of Christmas. Will one little boy change his spirit? No. Not really.


_A/N: This is weird, because I totally wasn't even planning on having a sequel, but I suddenly just thought of the situation and knew I had to write it. Ah well. That's inspiration for you. For those who haven't read the first fic, I recommend doing so for your own sake. Anyway, I hope you enjoy._

_P.S.: I really dislike James as a character a lot, and so I don't really know how to write him. I'm trying my best, but tell me if anything is really off about him in the fic and I'll try and fix it. Thanks. Also watch for my German--I just fooled around with a translator, so tell me if anything is incorrect or inaccurate. (Also note that I'm not providing translations because you really shouldn't need them to understand the situation--so long as you read the first fic, that is.)_

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It was Christmas time, Christmas Eve to be exact, but James doesn't take much account into these things and so really didn't notice that. What mattered most in his mind is the massive sale he saw at the local thrift store. Maybe the Earl's abrupt trip to Bonn would prove to be of _some_ use after all.

He needed new clothing material for patches, as his suit was becoming thready again, so he bulked up on sale clothes before going into the line to wait. He huffed irritably, annoyed at all the competition there was for the sale.

James gave the cashier the look of a predator as he neared the counter at last, ready to sink his teeth into an even further deal. But this kid was holding up the line. He was dressed in scruffy clothing--James thought he was dressed quite snappily, really, for a kid his age.

"Würdest du dich, sir beeilin?" the child spoke to the cashier. James could just barely catch the German--he really only concentrated on bargaining words, but "hurry" jumped out at him. "Meine mutter ist krank und meine vater sagt dass es nicht viel zeit gibt." Oh boy, that one was over his head. "So kann meine mutter hübsch sein, wenn sie Jesus heute abend trifft." Wait, did that kid just say, Jesus? James didn't really know what Jesus had to do with any of this, but figured he really didn't know what the heck he was saying anyway, so shrugged it off.

He noticed the kid was holding a gaudy looking pair of shoes--although... maybe he could buy the Earl something here! He always did spend too much on high heels he'd only wear for a disguise.

Whoa! The kid knew how to pinch his money! James thought for a moment that he should make him his apprentice or something. The kid had piled on all sorts of coins on the counter to pay for the shoes. They shared a common interest--he could respect that!

The cashier looked up from his counter, "Du hast nicht genug." Now there's a phrase James could recognize! Even though he never had to hear it, it was something he knew from his bargaining vocabulary. "You don't have enough". Pfft, stupid kid.

The kid turned around and looked up at James. "Was soll, Sir getan werden?"

James tilted his head, curious as to why the kid was talking to him. He shook his head, "Ich bin Englisch." The only bit of German that he knew that wasn't money related--"I am English."

The kid seemed to freeze at that, a little sweat developing on his brow. With wide eyes, he gulped, "Mama... going to be dead," he held up his shoes, "Christ-mass," he pointed at them and shook his head, "Not enough. Please." His eyes welled up with years.

James gasped, "No way! I'm not giving you _my money! NEVER!_" The boy was taken aback, the cashier too, "What kind of scam are you pulling, kid?! You're not getting my money! No way!"

The kid began to back up slowly, his eyes wide. Just as he was going to make a run for it, James grabbed his arm roughly.

"How much?" James spoke in German now. The teller told him and he shook his head, then asked the kid how much he had. The boy shakily told him the amount and James offered that as the new bargain. Fully shaken and intimidated by the look in James' eye, the cashier agreed to it.

"There you go! Merry Christmas!" James pushed the boy away from the cashier counter and waved him away, "Ah! It feels so good to help people!"

With a sour face, the boy stomped outside.

"Have you got the money?" his father asked him, puffing on an already butted cigar.

"No! This strange man bargained the price for me! He didn't put any of his own money in it at all! I had to pay for these ratty things!" The boy showed his father the ugly pair of shoes before throwing them down to the ground.

His father sighed, "Ah well. Thrift stores aren't where all the money's at anyway." He patted his son's shoulder, "Besides, you got a load off of that long-haired guy in the department store yesterday! Ha!"

"Haha! That's right! What an idiot," together both father and son walked away, laughing into the air at all the saps they've fooled in Bonn during the Christmas season.


End file.
